How to Have Fun
by Sarahbob
Summary: It's Courfeyrac's eighteenth birthday and all the Amis are gathered to celebrate. Bahorel and Grantaire decide to spike Enjolras' drink; which was supposed to be funny, but might turn out to be a complete nightmare. Combeferre is not pleased.
1. Chapter 1

_(Hi guys! So, here is the short story of the time that Grantaire got Enjolras drunk as described in my other story 'Time to Take a Break'. Enjolras, Marius, Courfeyrac and Jehan are around 17/18 in this. Feuilly is 19. Combeferre, Bossuet and Joly are 21/22 and Bahorel and Grantaire are 23/24. It's going to be a two-shot. I want to thank J91 in this author's note for providing me with some ideas of drunken Enjolras. Hope you'll like it!)_

* * *

"So what time will you two be joining us then?", Enjolras called from the bathroom he shared with Combeferre, while he wrapped himself in a large, fluffy towel.

Today was Friday and all the Amis had decided to get together and have some fun at the Musain to celebrate Courfeyrac's eighteenth birthday. Enjolras – even at seventeen – did not care much for partying or drinking, but Courfeyrac had begged him to come along as well. He remembered that conversation particularly well.

* * *

_"But, Enjolras, it's my birthday! I'm turning eighteen! Do you know how special that age is? I am allowed to do lots of things now, you know. I can learn how to drive...I can vote...come on, you have got to be there; I want you to be there and I want you to have fun, it can be my present!", Courfeyrac said in a whiny voice while they walked together towards their History class._

_Enjolras had huffed in annoyance. "I have fun...just because I don't count getting drunk and flirting with everything that moves as my main priorities, that doesn't mean that I don't have fun."_

_"Yeah, okay, whatever Enjolras", Courfeyrac had laughed, "I know this whole party scene is not really your thing, but I do a lot for you and for our cause and you are one of my best friends, I want you to come! Besides, it's not like everyone is going to be wasted and all...Combeferre and Joly will be there too. And Feuilly never drinks; so you'll have enough people to drink your lemonade with."_

_Enjolras knew he should stop complaining. Courfeyrac was right. It was an important day; all their friends were going to be there. And if it meant so much to his friend, then surely he could postpone his studies and extracurricular activities for a night. So he decided to suck it up and just make his friend happy. "Alright, I'll come...", he agreed, but before Courfeyrac could say anything, he added "But I don't want you or anyone else to try and hook me up with someone all the time nor try to get me drunk. I'm serious, Courf, I really don't appreciate that."_

_"Yeah, sure, sure, fine...I'm already happy you're going to come. You can hang out with our 20 something friends and discuss serious stuff if that's more your thing. As long as I see you smile!" Courfeyrac had ruffled his hair at that and then sped up towards his seat next to Marius. Enjolras sighed deeply and sat down in his own chair, next to Jehan. The blond poet turned towards him and smiled brightly. "It'll be fun Enjolras, just wait and see. There's no shame in doing something else once in a while than planning protests." He winked and squeezed Enjolras' shoulder._

_Enjolras smiled in return. "Yeah...maybe", he said and that was that. He was going and there was no getting out of it now_.

* * *

He let out a frustrated sigh as he pulled on his clothes and tried to get his hair under control. He swore it had a will of its own; curls bouncing in every direction. "Combeferre?", he called again as he made his way out of the bathroom and into the kitchen where Combeferre and Joly were bent over a shared textbook. "What time will you and Joly be arriving?"

Combeferre looked up and smiled at Enjolras' slightly wild appearance. "Well, our deadline for this terms paper is tonight at nine, so I guess we'll be coming afterwards. Or maybe before if we finish early." He and Joly were now in their third of University – both studying medicine – and to Enjolras' utmost frustration, his best friend and brother in everything but blood, had significantly less time for him and his teenage annoyances than he usually had. They shared an apartment, yes, but Combeferre had a whole different life now that things were getting more and more serious at University and Enjolras was still getting used to the fact that his best friend didn't have that much time for him any more.

"But it starts at six...", Enjolras muttered grumpily.

"I know it starts at six, which means you are already late. Come on, Enjolras, don't start with me now. Joly and I are busy and this is a little more important than the fact that you don't want to go to a _party_ alone. Besides, since when do you need me to keep you company when all of our other friends are there as well? It's a party, have some fun. You're seventeen, you're entitled to it. I'm not supposed to hold your hand forever you know, it's time to grow up."

It was meant as a joke and deep down Enjolras knew that too. Both Combeferre and Joly laughed about it, but Enjolras felt strangely hurt and left out. What, was he suddenly too young for Combeferre to hang out with? They'd always been the best of friends. Their age difference never mattered before. Their whole group of friends was a mix of ages with their youngest just seventeen and their oldest nearing twenty five. And why was everyone telling him he needed to have _fun. _He was having fun. Combeferre should know his kind of fun was different than that of other guys his age. Enjolras swallowed once and huffed angrily. "You're a jerk, Combeferre", he muttered silently and then he grabbed his bag, turned around and slammed the door shut behind him.

Combeferre looked up in shock. Enjolras never lost his temper with him. He turned to Joly with a questioning look. "What just happened?", he asked with his eyebrows raised, "I was clearly joking, right? He wouldn't take that serious...?"

Joly only shrugged and shook his head. "I'm sure he knows it was a joke 'Ferre, don't worry about it. He's probably just cranky because he can't work tonight, that's all. Let's just finish this and then we can get to Courf's birthday as well."

* * *

Enjolras was walking with large, firm steps towards the Musain. _Stupid Combeferre and his stupid University_, he thought bitterly as he kicked a can across the street. Who was he to tell him to grow up? As if he had ever acted childish...It wasn't fair. Just because he was seventeen, that did not mean he was suddenly not interesting anymore. Hell, he was so far ahead of his class that he was taking his exams a year early. Teachers often told him that he was more than ready to start University, so why would Combeferre treat him like a child. He was nearly eighteen! _He was just joking, stop making a big deal out of it_, said a voice deep inside his head. But Enjolras chose to ignore that voice and kicked another can in front of him; still fuming in silence.

He was still extremely annoyed once he reached the Café. He could already hear the laughter and the music and his stomach dropped. He wasn't feeling all that well and he really wasn't looking forward to a party. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open, where he was immediately greeted by a happily grinning Courfeyrac.

"Alright! You came! I am so happy, come on, come on, we've conquered our own corner with enough drinks and snacks to last the entire night!" He grabbed Enjolras by the wrist and pulled him through the Café to a large corner sofa where most of them were already seated. He saw Jehan, Feuilly and Marius on the right and Grantaire and Bahorel on the left. Bossuet, Joly and Combeferre were the only three still missing. Everyone welcomed him gladly and Enjolras found himself grinning back at them. He took a seat next to Feuilly and ordered himself a coke. _Stupid Combeferre. I don't need to hold his hand. I'm perfectly capable of having fun._

Half an hour later, Enjolras had decided he was actually quite enjoying himself. He had an interesting conversation with Feuilly and Jehan and to his relief, no one – with the exception of Courfeyrac and Grantaire – seemed totally wasted. It was still early, of course, but Enjolras concluded that he had been working himself up way too much over nothing. It was common knowledge that Enjolras did not feel comfortable around drunk people – even though only a few of the Amis were aware of the reason why – and therefore Enjolras found himself avoiding scenes like parties or a dancing as much as possible. Tonight was fun however. He was with his friend and he could tolerate a few inebriated comments. He would tolerate them. _Because I am perfectly able of having fun_.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Grantaire and Bahorel grinning and whispering to each other while in the meantime they kept throwing glances his way. Enjolras narrowed his eyes at them and cleared his throat. The two older men didn't notice his discomfort however and just kept on murmuring. Enjolras was just standing up to welcome Bossuet – who had just arrived – in their midst, when Grantaire let out a loud roar of laughter. Enjolras immediately turned around again and he found both his friends grinning at him like maniacs. He knew they were up to something and he didn't like it.

"What's so funny?", he said a little more angry than he wanted to.

"Nothing, my dear Apollo, we were definitely _not_ talking or laughing about you!" Grantaire slurred while he poured himself another glass of wine ad winked at Bahorel.

Enjolras was about to open his mouth to say something when Jehan gently nudged his shoulder. "Just leave them, Enj, they're drunk. It's no use to get into an argument about it with them. Besides, it's Courfeyrac's party and it wouldn't be fun for him if there's a fight tonight."

Enjolras glanced in Courfeyrac's direction, who was currently in the middle of a dart game with a woman that could have been twice his age. He snorted and shook his head. Then he turned back to Jehan and nodded. "Yeah, you're right. They're not worth it." He said it just loud enough for both Grantaire and Bahorel to hear, but they didn't seem at all affected. Enjolras rolled his eyes and took a long swig of his coke. For a moment there, he thought it tasted a little funny, but he soon brushed that thought off. Maybe it was a Pepsi instead of a Coca Cola.

* * *

As the evening went, Enjolras found himself feeling more and more relaxed. He was laughing at every joke; he was talking – or more like yelling – about everyday things instead of discussing his ideals and their goal; he had moved to sit next to Grantaire and was now singing a song with him. To all his other drunken friends, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But to those few who had stayed with their cokes or water, Enjolras was transforming into something they had never seen before and it was quite unsettling. He had only been drinking lemonade and yet here he was acting as if he was truly and utterly wasted. Feuilly, Marius and Jehan shared a concerned look when Enjolras announced he was going to the toilet and stumbled across the Café, nearly crashing in the waitress as he went.

They turned to Grantaire and Bahorel as soon as their blond friend was out of sight. "What the hell did you two do to him?", Feuilly hissed angrily. "He acts like he's drunk out of his frigging mind!"

Bahorel shrugged his shoulders in response. "I dunno man, I...No, I don't even know...or do I?", he slurred and he clasped Grantaire on the shoulder. "Whas the problem anyway, he's hafing fun isn't he?"

Grantaire laughed out loud in response and dangled his little flask in front of Feuilly's eyes. "Don't worry, we just spiked his drink a little bit. He's having a stronger reaction to it, because he never drinks. We...we didn't even give him that much, you know, but come on, it's hilarious. He's letting loose, he's finally himself" Grantaire sounded a lot less drunk than Bahorel, but his eyes were blinking rapidly as if he had a hard time focusing on Feuilly and the other two.

"Himself?", Jehan exclaimed, "He's nothing like himself! This isn't him. This isn't who he wants to be!"

But Grantaire shushed him and poured another shot into Enjolras' lemonade before the blond slumped back into his chair, grinning as if he was entirely too happy with himself. "This my new drink cola , Grantaaaaaire?", he chuckled, grabbing the glass in his hand and bringing it towards his mouth.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Enjolras", Marius piped up quietly, ignoring the glares of betrayal he received from Grantaire and Bahorel, "I think they've put something in your drink. You'd better just leave it alone."

But Enjolras only frowned disapprovingly and turned away from Marius. "You'd better leave _me_ alone, Pontmercy, I can take care of myself..._And I can have fun_. I'm having fun, see 'Taire, now shut up and leave me alone all of you...I have to go to the bathroom again."

"It's not funny!", Jehan snapped angrily when Grantaire and Bahorel burst into another round of laughter as Enjolras once again wandered off. "He's completely plastered! Have you any idea how mad Combeferre will be when he sees Enjolras like this? He's going to eat the two of you alive, I swear."

Bahorel was about to make some sort of smart comment when someone suddenly banged a spoon against a glass. It was Courfeyrac – far beyond tipsy himself – who climbed atop a chair and forced everyone to be silent. Then he started speaking, or at least, he tried to speak. He was mostly giggling his way through it however. "My dear...dear...dearest friends! I am so happy to have you all gathered around me! And even though I appreciate all of your presence here, I have just received the best gift of all. For the first time in my eighteen years, I finally have the honor to see my dearest, bravest and most honest friend of all in a state of inebriation. And not only does he allow me to enjoy his brilliant, funny , perfectly wonderful personality, he has also agreed to give me my birthday speech! So everyone, please, be quiet and behold...the one and only, talented, speech giving, blond curling, freaking damn sexy...Enjolras!"

Both Feuilly and Jehan let out a desperate groan as they watched Enjolras climb atop one of the table on shaky legs. Everyone was cheering him on and their young friend seemed to enjoy it to the fullest. He was smiling bright and his eyes were twinkling. If they hadn't known better, they would have thought their friend to be one of the most happy people in the world. But they did know better. And they did know that if Enjolras had been fully aware of the situation, he would be mortified.

"M-my friends! M-my lords and...and my ladies! I wan to start this speech by telling C-Courfe-Courfe, damn your name is hard...Courfeyrac a happy birthday!" Enjolras yelled and he raised his glass towards the birthday boy. "It is my pleasure to be the one to speak tonight, because let's face it...I am one hell of a speaker. And I am happy to show you all my talent, but first, I want to praise my friend here, because he has put on the most beautiful shirt in the entire world! Not only is it cut out just right...it is also red. And red, my dear friends, is the color of everything that is good in this world. Not only is it the color of Courfeyrac's shirt. It is also the color of...of...uhm...of...of TOMATOES! Yes! It is the color of tomatoes and tomatoes are wonderful. Be-because they are healthy and juicy and round and they are RED."

Everyone in the entire Café was laughing either with Enjolras or at Enjolras. Everyone except for Jehan, Marius and Feuilly, who were looking nervously at each other; trying to decide if they should put a stop to this. "Is he seriously talking about tomatoes right now?", Marius asked incredulously. "Shouldn't we...shouldn't we do something?"

"I'm already on it", Feuilly mumbled anxiously and he grabbed his phone. He watched the other two while he waited for the person on the other side of the line to pick up. It was nearly nine o'clock; Enjolras had only been here for two and a half hours and he was completely wasted. "Yes, Combeferre? Hi, it's Feuilly...ehm...yes, it's a nice party...listen, I think it would be best if you'd come right now...yes...no...it's Enjolras, look I know it's hard to believe, but he's drunk out of his mind...no, I'm serious...he's giving a speech about the significance of tomatoes right now...yes...yes...alright, great, thanks...see you soon, bye."

"He and Joly are on their way, they should be here in a minute", Feuilly sighed relieved. His eyes darted towards the table on which Enjolras was still standing. "He told me to get him outside and try and coax him into drinking water...any ideas on how to get him off that table without the entire Café turning against us?"

Before Marius or Jehan could come up with anything, however, Enjolras attempted to do a graceful twirl, which of course went entirely wrong as he slipped and fell off the table; smacking his head against it in the process. Before any of the Amis could panic however, Enjolras stood up and started laughing loudly as he brushed them all off. "I'm fineee, seriously, I'm...I'm fine!". But he was clutching his head and immediately slumped down in his seat next to Grantaire. "I'm fine, I'll finish the speech soon, I just need to...I need to lie down for a minute...shh...I'm fine, I'll just...I'm fine." Enjolras nuzzled against Grantaire's shoulder and closed his eyes; pain edged across his face.

Grantaire and Bahorel didn't look that pleased with themselves anymore; concern was now evident on their faces. _Maybe this was a mistake_.

TBC.

* * *

_(Yeah, this is going to be a two-shot! Hope it didn't disappoint. More drunk Enjolras, caring Combeferre and guilty Amis on the way! Please let me know what you think of this chapter and leave a review? Thanks!)_


	2. Chapter 2

_(Hi guys! Thank you all for the reviews, follows and favorites on this story :) I'm so glad you liked it! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well)_

* * *

Grantaire looked down at Enjolras with a worried expression on his face. Their young blond friend was pressed up against the drunkards side; eyes closed and brows furrowed in discomfort. Grantaire carefully traced his hand across Enjolras' head and winced when he found a large bump at the upper right side.

"Hey, Goldilocks", he crooned, "don't fall asleep on us, alright? Stay awake...at least until Combeferre and Joly arrive to take a look at you."

The atmosphere at the Café had completely turned around. People were still laughing and talking; dancing and drinking, but the Amis had gone rather silent in concern of their friend. Even Courfeyrac, who had been at his happiest only minutes ago, was now slumped next to Jehan and watched Enjolras anxiously.

Enjolras, in the meantime, would have none of it. They were having fun and he still had a speech to finish. His head only hurt slightly and he was used to working through a little pain. He had to admit, though, that he felt strange; he felt fuzzy and his mind was hazy; his limbs felt heavy and he was starting to get a dry mouth, but all in all he was fine. When Grantaire called him 'Goldilocks', he couldn't help but giggle. He didn't know why, but it just sounded so funny to him.

"'M not sleeping, 'Taire, I was just resting my head a little", he slurred with a broad smile. He pushed himself away from Grantaire and opened his eyes. Before anyone could stop him, he grabbed the glass of Cola still in front of him and he took a large gulp to sooth his dry mouth.

"Uh...Enjolras, I think you've had enough Cola for tonight", Bahorel stated as he tried to wriggle the glass out of his hand. But Enjolras ducked away and got to his feet in one surprisingly supple movement for someone who was as inebriated as Enjolras was.

"Nooo, get off...It's my drink", Enjolras murmured as he put the glass at his lips again and made effort to climb back on top of a table. "I...am finishing my speech, because...b-because I still have important things to say..."

* * *

Right at that moment, Combeferre and Joly arrived at their corner; both staring up at Enjolras with eyes wide open and mouths agape. Combeferre honestly couldn't believe what he was seeing. The image of his best friend drunk was so unrealistic to him, that he had to blink a few times to make sure his eyes weren't cheating on him.

"Aah, look, look who came!", Enjolras called happily, "It's Combeferre and Joly! Oh my God, the two of you are so late...But I guess Combeferre didn't mind b-because he's too old to hang out with us kids. And I don't understand why because I'm not a child, C-Combeferre...and I can have fun. See? I'm having fun!" He took another swig from his glass and let it slip from his grasp as soon as he realized it was empty.

Combeferre frowned. He had a vague idea where this was coming from and he secretly cursed himself for teasing his friend earlier. He'd never meant it like that; it was supposed to be a joke. He opened his mouth to say something, but Enjolras was speaking again.

"A-and it is kind of sad...sad, because Combeferre is supposed to be my best friend and I love him and all and then he says I need to grow up and I...I...I, mes Amis have decided to have fun!" He concluded suddenly and he threw both arms in the air; not at all knowing what he was about to say to Combeferre anymore. All he really wanted to get across was that he was capable of having fun and that he was sick of everyone telling him he wasn't.

Combeferre had had enough, he walked over towards the table, grabbed Enjolras' wrist and pulled him down. He had no idea what happened yet, but he was pissed. He was angry and worried and his friend really didn't look good.

"Combeferreee", Enjolras moaned, "let me go...I need to finish the speech...stop it...I...ah, I'm dizzy...I need to sit down, lemme go."

"Damn right you're going to sit down", Combeferre snapped although he wasn't even sure if he was angry with Enjolras or with himself. "What the hell did you drink, Enjolras?" He pushed his friend back down next to Grantaire who exchanged a guilty look with Bahorel.

Enjolras suddenly didn't feel good at all. The whole room was spinning; his heart was beating like crazy and he was trembling all over. He let himself fall back against Grantaire; his head resting on the drunkard's lap and he let out a miserable moan. "Just cola", he mumbled weakly.

Combeferre frowned worriedly as he took in his friend's suddenly miserable expression. He carefully held Enjolras' wrist again and searched for a pulse. His concern only grew when he noticed how fast his friend's heart was beating. He took a deep breath and looked up at the rest of their friends. "Anyone care to explain what the hell happened?" he asked in a dangerously controlled voice.

Grantaire briefly glanced over at Bahorel and swallowed nervously. His oldest friend looked just as anxious as he felt himself. They had screwed up big time; and now Combeferre was going to be so angry with them. He looked back down at Enjolras and gently brushed the blond curls back. Their young friend really didn't look good; he was pale and panting shallowly. Grantaire didn't know what to say; he was afraid to speak up.

"Bahorel and Grantaire spiked his drink", Feuilly said softly and he threw an apologetic look their way. He didn't want to rat them out, but there was no lying to Combeferre right now if Enjolras' health was on the line. "I don't know with what or how much, but Enjolras went from fine to completely wasted within an hour and he fell off the table when he was giving Courfeyrac his birthday speech; I think he hit his head pretty hard. That happened just after I called you."

Combeferre wiped a hand over his face and closed his eyes. His blood was slowly starting to boil and he wanted nothing more than to blow up in Bahorel and Grantaire's face. _How could they? How could they do this to Enjolras? They knew how much his friend hated alcohol_. He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. When he opened his eyes again and looked at Grantaire, who was still watching Enjolars intently, he saw a blush of shame creep up his cheeks. Bahorel recoiled slightly when Combeferre met his eyes. "Start talking", Combeferre said quietly; his voice trembling with suppressed anger.

"Look, Combeferre…it was meant to be a joke, you know. Loose him up a little; so that he'd allow himself to have some fun. We didn't mean for him to get this plastered", Bahorel began hesitatingly. "I…we just gave him some of the vodka Grantaire carries around in his flask, you know…just a little bit…and we mixed it with his cola when he wasn't looking."

If looks could kill, Bahorel swore he would be six feet under the ground right now. Combeferre was shooting daggers and not one of the Amis had ever seen him this furious. The terrifying thing about it was that Combeferre appeared to be perfectly calm. His anger, however, wasradiating off of him in large, hot waves and everyone could feel it.

"Hand me that flask", Combeferre said quietly while he lightly pinched Enjolras' shoulders to keep him awake. "Now, Grantaire!"

Grantaire flinched at the sharp tone. "I…yes…alright, here", he whispered hoarsely as he fished the flask out of from underneath the table and gave it to Combeferre. It felt surprisingly empty in his hand and he feared the worst.

"This was full before you started poisoning his drink?" Combeferre asked incredulously while he dangled the flask between his fingers for a second. "It's practically empty now! Are you telling me you gave him this entire bottle? How much alcohol is in here?"

Grantaire remained silent. He couldn't remember he gave Enjolras that much. He didn't realize it. He honestly thought he had only given him a few shots. This was never his intention.

"How much alcohol is in here, Grantaire?" Combeferre asked again, voice rising dangerously.

Grantaire still didn't say anything. He swallowed thickly, looked up at Combeferre apologetically and shook his head. He didn't know. He really had no idea; all he knew was that it was strong. One of the strongest they sold at the liquor store. "I…I'm not sure", he muttered weakly, "It is one of the better ones; I think it has around 55%...maybe more…"

Combeferre huffed once and then threw the flask against the wall behind them. Everyone fell silent. For a moment it looked as though the usually calm and gentle medical student was about to lunge at Grantaire, but then Enjolras let out a quiet, broken whimper and Combeferre momentarily forgot about his anger and fully focused on his young friend. He gently wiped the sweat away that had formed on Enjolras' forehead with his sleeve and let one hand rest on the side of his pale face.

Enjolras moaned again and leaned into Combeferre's touch. He didn't open his eyes anymore; afraid of the tilting world around him. "Don't feel good", he whispered quietly. His voice was slurred and so low that Combeferre almost didn't hear him. It became harder to breathe and he was so, so tired.

Combeferre softly squeezed his friend's hand in an attempt to ease his discomfort a little. This really wasn't good and Combeferre felt his own heart rate speed up. "Joly", he murmured quietly, "Come take a look at him...what do you think? His heart's racing; his breathing is too shallow and he's trembling and sweating…Do we take him to a hospital?"

"What?" Bahorel squeaked horrified. A hospital? Enjolras needed a hospital? He couldn't believe what he was hearing. What had they done?

Combeferre shot Bahorel one dangerous look, but ignored him otherwise. Joly silently crouched down next to the young blond and carefully took his pulse. "Enjolras", he coaxed quietly, "Enjolras, can you open your eyes for me? Just for a few seconds, mon Ami…" He only got a weak whimper and a shake of the head in response.

"He…he has got a bump on his head", Grantaire whispered guiltily, "I guess he got that one when he smacked his head against the table…I…just…I thought you should know that too…"

Combeferre snorted and glared at him. "You'd think?" he scoffed annoyed while he carefully traced his friend's head in search for the bump Grantaire had just mentioned. He pressed his lips together in concern when he found it. It wasn't bleeding, and for that Combeferre was happy, but when he softly pressed against it, Enjolras didn't even flinch. And that really worried Combeferre, because it should have hurt a lot.

"He's really out of it, Joly…He's barely conscious, I'm taking him to a hospital", Combeferre stated firmly. He grabbed Enjolras' shoulders and pulled him up. Joly nodded and reached out to help him. Another weak moan escaped Enjolras' lips as soon as he was sitting up right. He leaned heavily against Combeferre's shoulders and let out a small and confused sob.

"Shh, it's alright…you'll be alright, we'll go slow, just try and stay awake for me", Combeferre said gently while he carded a loose hand through Enjolras' hair.

"Do you want us to call an ambulance?" Jehan asked quietly. He had an arm draped across Courfeyrac's shoulders. The birthday boy, who had been ecstatic just moments ago, was now pale and watched the scene in front of him with wide eyes. He couldn't quite comprehend what was happening right now, but he knew it was bad and he was terrified. One of his best friends was going to end up in the hospital because of his birthday party? He let out a shaky breath and leaned in closer to Jehan.

Combeferre turned around and offered the young poet a small smile. "No, that's okay, I'm taking him myself…we came with Joly's car." Then his eyes fell on Courfeyrac and his heart clenched a little. It was not fair that this had to happen on his eighteenth birthday. Combeferre nudged Joly with his elbow and motioned for him to take hold of Enjolras. Then he walked up to the dark haired boy and knelt down in front of him. "He's going to be okay Courf, I promise", Combeferre said quietly while he gently squeezed the nape of his friend's neck. "I'm sorry this had to happen on your birthday…we'll make it up to you, alright?"

Courfeyrac let out a deep breath and shook his head. "I don't care about my birthday", he whispered sadly. "I just want Enj to be okay…"

Combeferre pressed a light kiss on his forehead. "He'll be alright", he said again with an encouraging smile. Then he stood up straight again and walked back to Joly and Enjolras. He carefully took his best friend in his arms and told Joly to get the car ready. Before he made his way out of the Café, Combeferre looked back at Grantaire and Bahorel. "The two of you disgust me", he said darkly, "I can't believe you did this to him…" And then he turned around and left the group of friends alone.

* * *

Enjolras woke up hours later feeling wretched and confused. When he opened his eyes, he found himself alone in a dark room; a room he did not recognize but that strongly smelled of antiseptics. The monotone beeping of a machine next to him confirmed his suspicion: he was in the hospital.

But why? He couldn't remember for the life of him why he was in here. What had happened? No matter how he hard he tried to search his memory, there was this big, dark hole that didn't tell him anything. And it scared him. It scared him a lot. Because what had happened? Was it just him in the hospital? Or were his other friends in here as well? Did they have an accident? Why wasn't there anyone to explain things to him?

He turned around in his bed and gasped at the sudden pain in his head. He felt miserable. His head hurt; his stomach hurt; he felt nauseous and his vision was a little blurry. _What is wrong with me?_ Just when he was about to press the call button, the door opened and someone quietly walked in.

"Combeferre?", Enjolras croaked weakly and he couldn't believe how wrecked he sounded, "'s that you?"

"Hey, you're awake", the person said quietly as he came closer to the bed and turned on the light on the bedside table. It was indeed Combeferre. "Yes it's me, how are you feeling?"

Enjolras frowned and swallowed thickly. _Not good_, he thought, but that wasn't what he said, because there was a more pressing matter at hand. "What happened?", he whispered hoarsely.

Combeferre sighed and offered his young friend a sad smile. He was afraid of this. The doctor had already warned him that the sudden large amount of alcohol in his blood could've damaged his short term memory. Now it was just a matter of finding out how much he had forgotten.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Combeferre asked; keeping his voice low and gently stroking his friend's blond curls.

Enjolras' face went very serious as he furrowed his brows in thought. It was hard, because he knew that the last thing he remembered was far from the last thing that had happened. "I...uh...I was getting ready for Courf's birthday party", he said softly; his words came out very slow, "You...y-you told me to g-grow up..."

Combeferre pressed his lips together and frowned. The way Enjolras said that clearly indicated that he had been hurt by Combeferre's words, just as he had already suspected. "I didn't mean it like that, Enj", he mumbled quietly and he held Enjolras' hand in his own. "It was meant to be a joke...I thought you knew, I'm sorry."

Enjolras shrugged, but his eyes were shining with tears he didn't want to shed. "What happened?", he asked again in a very small voice, "I don't remember anything after that...Why am I in the hospital?"

Combeferre let out a deep breath. He had dreaded this moment ever since Enjolras had passed out in the back of Joly's car hours ago. The poor kid was going to be mortified when he heard what had happened and Combeferre didn't want him to. He didn't deserve it. He felt his blood boiling again when he thought about Grantaire and Bahorel and the stunt they pulled. Both of them had tried to call him, but he refused to answer either of them.

"I don't really know how to say this, but uh...well, you're in here because you suffered from acute alcohol poisoning...they had to perform a gastric suction and they hooked you up to an IV to get enough fluids in you...and apart from that you've given yourself a concussion when you hit your head on a table in the Café..."

Combeferre fell silent and bit his lip. Enjolras' face had gone from apprehensive to absolutely horrified and downright confused. "I...but...t-that's not, I mean...how can...I...how? How?" He whispered anxiously. He couldn't remember anything. "How? That can't be possible, 'Ferre...?" His eyes were wide and pleading; begging Combeferre to explain what was going on.

"Try to calm down, okay", Combeferre soothed, "I know it's hard to comprehend right now, but the more you work yourself up, the more pain you'll be in…" He cleared his throat and smiled sympathetically at his young friend. "Listen, Enj, what happened is not your fault...Bahorel and Grantaire thought it would be funny to spike your drink and stupid as they are, they gave you so much in such a short amount of time that it led to intoxication. The...uh...the concussion happened when you fell off the table you had climbed up on to give Courfeyrac his birthday speech. Joly and I drove you to the hospital about four hours ago. You passed out in the backseat and didn't wake up again until now...That is pretty much the short version of what happened tonight, but I think it is enough for now..."

Enjolras was staring blankly ahead as he tried to get a grip in the situation just presented to him. He couldn't believe this. This couldn't be true. What had he done? Had he made a fool of himself? Enjolras didn't even know the full extent of the story yet, but he was already mortified and out of nowhere, tears of confusion and betrayal were threatening to fall from his eyes. "Why would they do that to me?", he whispered brokenly.

"I don't know, Enjolras, they said they wanted you to let loose a little; have fun or whatever...does it really matter? They're douchebags and I don't want to talk about them right now", Combeferre said firmly; his voice a lot sharper and louder than he wanted it to be. He immediately cursed his own words when he saw the shocked expression on his friend's face. "I'm sorry, mon petit Ami, I didn't...I'm not angry with you okay, not in the slightest...I just cannot talk, less think about those two right now though, because I fear I might throw something."

Enjolras blinked a few times in confusion and let out a small sigh. They were both quiet for a moment but then Enjolras spoke up again, very quiet and voice full of embarrassment. "They had to empty my stomach?"

Combeferre smiled sympathetically and intertwined their fingers. "Yes...It got pretty serious there for a while. The alcohol had a much stronger effect on you because you don't have any experience with it whatsoever and you're only seventeen...but you're going to be completely fine. They just want to keep you here overnight, mostly because of that concussion, and you can leave again in the morning. I'm allowed to stay here with you until then."

Enjolras averted his eyes and nodded slowly. This was all very hard to take in. He didn't remember anything of what Combeferre had just told him and it was such an embarrassing story; so unlike him. He didn't know if he wanted to believe it. He felt strangely hurt by Grantaire and Bahorel's little prank. Why did everyone want him to loosen up; to have fun? Was he really that boring to hang out with? He had never felt this insecure about himself before, but – whether it was because of his concussion or his confusion – these statements suddenly hit him hard.

"I think I'm perfectly capable of having fun…", he mumbled dejectedly; although there wasn't much conviction in his voice. He kept his eyes downwards and nervously fumbled with the hospital sheets.

"Of course you are, Enjolras", Combeferre stated firmly, "And don't let anyone make you think otherwise. You're perfectly fine the way you are and you don't have to change for anybody. There is nothing wrong with preferring to do other things than getting drunk and party."

_You said it too_, Enjolras thought sadly, but he didn't say it out loud. Instead he rolled on his side, away from Combeferre. He was tired and in pain; he felt miserable and ashamed. He didn't want to talk anymore. "I think I'm going to sleep", he whispered quietly without throwing Combeferre another look. His best friend didn't have to see the tears in his eyes.

Combeferre's face fell and he let out a disappointed sigh. He had already feared this whole thing would affect Enjolras greatly. And now his best friend was shutting himself off from him, and that hurt. "Alright, Enj…you sleep…I'll be here when you wake up…everything will be alright, you know…I promise." Enjolras didn't respond anymore, but Combeferre could've sworn he heard a small hitch of breath coming from his friend and it broke his heart to know that this had to happen to him. He swore to himself that he was going to have a long and eye-opening talk with Grantaire and Bahorel. They were going to get a piece of his mind. And then he was going to spend some quality time with his young friend. It had been too long; far too long.

TBC.

* * *

_(Okay, I know I said it would be a two-shot, but I'm going to make it a three shot :) It still needs some guilty Grantaire and Bahorel, confused/hurt Enjolras and angry Combeferre. Hope this chapter lived up to your expectations. Please let me know and review? Thanks!) _


	3. Chapter 3

_(Hey guys! Thank you all for your support on this story. It means so much to me :) Here's another chapter and I hope you'll like it. Enjoy!)_

* * *

Combeferre did not sleep at all the night he spent in the hospital with Enjolras. He sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to his friend's bed and thought about everything that had happened. About what he had experienced himself and what he had heard from Feuilly over the phone just a few minutes before Enjolras woke up. The doctor had told him it was very well possible that Enjolras' memory would slowly come back to him, but somewhere Combeferre hoped it wouldn't. Because if Enjolras was going to remember it all, he would be beyond humiliated. He already felt mortified. And Combeferre couldn't help but think 'ignorance is bliss' in this case. Enjolras did not need to remember that he tried to convince everyone in the Café about the significance of tomatoes...

As he sat in his chair, Combeferre was silently fuming. He couldn't remember a day in his life where he had ever been this angry as he was right now. He couldn't believe that two of his close friends had been so, so stupid. Of course he knew it had been a prank; he knew that both Bahorel and Grantaire were probably worried out of their minds, but that did nothing to sooth his rage. The look of betrayal on Enjolras' face the moment he told him why he was in here, kept haunting him. Every time Combeferre left the room to check his phone, he had a dozen missed calls and messages containing apologies and guilt-ridden words from Bahorel and Grantaire, but Combeferre refused to respond to either of them.

Morning luckily came soon enough and Combeferre couldn't wait to take Enjolras back to their apartment; away from here. His young friend was very silent and withdrawn when he woke up. He hardly said anything and he seemed to be in a constant battle to keep the tears at bay - which is a pretty hard thing to do when a concussion causes your emotions to be all over the place. The fact that Enjolras was first forced to talk to a police officer about what had happened and then listen to a preach of a social worker about the dangers of alcohol abuse before he could go home, really didn't make things much easier.

Even though Combeferre thought Bahorel and Grantaire deserved punishment for what they had done, he knew Enjolras was never going to press charges against them. Because loyalty and friendship meant everything to Enjolras and though both Bahorel and Grantaire had been anything but loyal, Enjolras still saw them as his friends, and he wouldn't rat them out. And so Combeferre reluctantly held his tongue when the police officer announced the amount of the fine he was writing out to Enjolras for underage drinking. But something told Combeferre that the officer didn't really buy the story Enjolras came up with, because the fine was lower than what was usual in these kind of cases. When Grantaire himself was once fined for the same thing, he was charged with at least hundred euro's more.

Combeferre silently nodded his thanks when the man took his leave again and took the papers Enjolras had gotten a little while later from the social worker. It was near painful to watch the embarrassment edged across his friend's face when the perky, plump woman lectured him on the consequences of alcohol abuse. And Combeferre wished he could slap the arrogant smile of the lady's face when she kept going on about how little the youth of today knew of what was going on in the world because they were too busy partying and drinking. But again, he held his tongue, just like Enjolras did, because this lecture was apparently part of the punishment he had gotten and therefore he was forced to sit through the whole thing.

More than three hours later, they could finally go home. Combeferre had picked up the prescription bottle filled with painkillers for Enjolras' concussion and was now gently guiding his friend through the hospital hallways to the parking lot where Joly had left the car. As soon as they got inside, Enjolras turned his head away from Combeferre and closed his eyes. He was tired, his head felt like it could explode any second and he didn't feel like talking. He just wanted to go home; lie down and think of nothing. He wanted to go to sleep and forget about everything that had happened.

Combeferre understood Enjolras was feeling miserable, but it killed him to know that his friend was shutting himself off like this. He looked over at Enjolras and gently squeezed the nape of his neck once. Then he turned back, started the engine and drove home. In silence.

* * *

"Do you want me to fetch you some stuff from the bedroom so that you can rest on the couch? Watch some TV maybe? Or talk? Whatever you want. I could make us some tea...", Combeferre offered kindly as soon as he had unlocked the door and softly steered Enjolras inside. He had hoped he might lure his friend out of his shell, but it proved of little use.

"I'd rather just go to my room...", Enjolras muttered silently, "I think I'm going to try and sleep some more..."

Combeferre frowned and let out a small sigh. This really wasn't like him. Usually, Combeferre had to go to unimaginable lengths to convince Enjolras to get some rest. Sleep was always of little importance to him, whether he felt ill or not. But now Enjolras turned him down for the second time in order to sleep and it worried Combeferre more than he liked to let on. He was certain it had more to do with his emotional state and the fact that Enjolras was still too shocked to really believe what was all happening than with his physical state. Though he should probably be grateful; rest was after all the best medicine for a concussion.

"Erm, okay, yes sure...that's probably for the best anyway", Combeferre said and he put up a fake smile, "Come on, let's get you to your bed then."

Enjolras nodded and let Combeferre guide him to his bedroom. _At least he allows me to do thi_s..., the poor medical student thought as he helped Enjolras out of his jumper and into his sweatshirt. Then he quietly left the room to get his friend a glass of water. "Take these", he said gently and he handed his young friend two pills. "They'll help with the headache and you'll sleep better."

And for what might be the second or third time in his entire life, Enjolras took the painkillers without question. He swallowed them down and sank into the pillows and blankets. He gave Combeferre a weak, half-hearted smile and then abruptly turned on his side again, successfully shutting himself off from his friend. "Thanks 'Ferre", Enjolras muttered quietly. And that made Combeferre's heart lift a little; because those few words meant so very much. It meant that Enjolras wasn't upset with him; it meant he felt safe with him; trusted; cared for; loved.

"You are very welcome, mon petit Ami." Combeferre gently brushed a few locks of hair out of Enjolras' face, looked at him for another few seconds and then pushed himself up from the bed. He silently closed the curtains to block out the bright light of day and then left the room without another word. Just before he closed the door behind him, he could've sworn he heard Enjolras' breath hitch and for a second he wondered if he should turn back, but then he figured that his friend would probably want to be alone; there was a reason Enjolras tried to smother the sound in the pillow. And so he reluctantly went on his way and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Sunken deep into thought, Combeferre set to cleaning up the living room a little. There were still plates with half eaten food sitting on the table; forgotten mugs of coffee; papers and books were spread pretty much everywhere. That was the way their apartment looked all the time; with two men living there and neither of them all that interested in cleaning up after themselves. Combeferre was tidier than Enjolras - especially when it came to his own bedroom - but he too couldn't care that much for leaving his notes all across the living room. They both had their own weird little system when it came to organizing their work and there was no messing with the system, so every piece of paper stayed where it was until the owner himself cleaned it up. But Combeferre knew that most of the mess belonged to him this time, having had a very busy week at University filled with deadlines, and so it was safe to start the cleaning process. It kept his mind off other things, which was good, because he still felt like punching a wall or breaking something to get rid of his anger.

He was just in the middle of piling his books when there was a hesitant knock on the door. Without really realizing why, Combeferre felt his stomach clench into a tight knot as if on some level, deep down, he already knew who would be standing outside his door. He dropped the books he was holding on the table and slowly walked through the kitchen towards the front door. There was another knock, a little more certain this time, and then a voice that called out to him.

"C-Combeferre? Could you please open the door for us? We know you're home…Joly told us you and Enj left the hospital this morning..."

It was Bahorel. And Combeferre would bet his life that the 'we' he spoke of meant that Grantaire was there with him as well. He swallowed nervously and his fingers twitched around the doorknob. Combeferre knew he didn't really have a reason to be nervous, but there was a weird sensation settling in his heart that he didn't fully recognize, although he was certain it fell in the 'anger category' and he was a little anxious of what it might do to him. He had never felt that way before.

"Combeferre, please, you can't ignore us forever. And neither can Enjolras. That isn't fair...we're his friends and we deserve the chance to explain and apologize."

Combeferre wasn't sure if it was Bahorel or Grantaire who said those words, but it caused his emotions to boil so high, that he threw the door open in one quick motion and connected his fist with the first face he recognized. _How dare they speak of what was fair and what was not? How dare they speak of rights and explanations?_

Bahorel watched with wide, shocked eyes as Grantaire stumbled back into the hallway and brought one hand up to cup his cheek where a bruise was already forming. More than a little indignant, he turned back to Combeferre and opened his mouth to say how he felt about the fact that the medical student just attacked his friend. Before the words left his mouth however, he too was thrown backwards when Combeferre's fist collided hard with his jaw.

"Don't either of you even dare to try and talk about what is fair in this whole situation", Combeferre all but spat at the two shocked men in front of him; voice dripping with disgust. His whole hand was numb and he feared he might have even bruised or broken some fingers, but a warm feeling of satisfaction spread through him when he took in his friends' expressions. "How can you even call yourselves friends after the stunt the two of you pulled."

Bahorel was quick to hide his surprise at Combeferre's sudden violent actions and was soon getting just as angry as the man in front of him; forgetting for a moment that he and Grantaire had been at fault here and probably did deserved a punch or two. Just before he could speak up however, Grantaire placed a hand on his shoulder to silence him.

"We deserved that...", he mumbled quietly and then he turned to Combeferre. He looked at him with pleading eyes; full of regret and guilt. "Please 'Ferre...can we come and talk to you? You're killing us here...no one will tell us anything about Enj except for the fact that he left the hospital this morning, and we're both worried out of our minds. Please?"

Combeferre let out a deep sigh. He was still trembling with anger and he wanted nothing more than to slam the door shut in their faces, but Grantaire seemed honest enough and the look he gave Combeferre had him reluctantly open the door further and step aside. "You have ten minutes and you can talk to me; not to Enjolras", he said in an icy voice as he led the two other men through the apartment, "We'll go to my bedroom; Enjolras is asleep and I don't want either of you to disturb him."

Grantaire nodded while they followed Combeferre to his bedroom on the other side of the small apartment and Bahorel grunted his assent, although he did look longingly at the door of Enjolras' bedroom when they passed it. Both of them would rather speak with Enjolras than with Combeferre, because, truth be told, Combeferre could be downright terrifying when it came to his roommate. They sat down quietly on the bed; nervous and hesitant to speak up. Just when Bahorel had found the courage to open his mouth and say something, Combeferre stood and left the room again. As soon as he was gone, Grantaire turned to Bahorel.

"What the hell was that, man? You knew how angry he would be; Feuilly told us! And then you go and say stuff like that? And get mad when he actually responds the way he did? Damnit, Bahorel, were you going to hit him back too if I hadn't stopped you? We're trying to make things right here."

"I don't know, Taire…I just get angry when someone hits me alright? Call it some sort of reflex…It was stupid; I'm sorry….But I think we might…", Bahorel stopped talking when he heard footsteps approach and he swallowed the rest of his words. Suddenly he felt a something cold being pressed in his hands and he looked down to see a towel wrapped around a pack of ice. Grantaire was holding something similar and they both muttered their thanks to Combeferre when they realized he had actually gone to get them something for their bruises.

"I'm waiting", Combeferre gave them both a pervasive and stern look. His hands were still trembling from the sudden rush of adrenaline that had swept through him when he hit Bahorel and Grantaire. He had never gotten violent with another person before and even though he had felt momentarily satisfied, he didn't want to be like that at all. The packs of ice were meant as some sort of peace offering, but that didn't mean he wasn't still angry. That didn't mean that they were forgiven. And it didn't mean that Combeferre was happy to have them in his apartment.

Bahorel and Grantaire swallowed and looked at each other. In the end it was Grantaire who spoke up. "Look, Combeferre…We can tell you again how awful we feel about what happened; how sorry we are, but the truth is that there are no words to exactly describe what we're feeling and I don't think you need to hear the same apologies over and over again, because you're a smart guy and I'm sure you already know that we never meant for this to happen and that we will feel guilty for it the rest of our lives…"

Combeferre didn't say anything, but slowly nodded his head. It was true. He was sure his two friends felt terrible.

"I…It was meant as a joke…A stupid one, for sure, but Bahorel and I were both already pretty tipsy when Enjolras arrived and we weren't really thinking clear anymore. And that is not an excuse, I know that…but had we been sober, we would never have done such a thing, because of course we know how Enj feels about alcohol and I still don't understand what made us disrespect his wishes like that…I truly don't know, but it happened and we cannot turn it back no matter how much we want to."

Bahorel nodded his agreement. "Really 'Ferre…we would do anything if we could; we want nothing more than to make things right again. And we've been spending the entire night calling you and texting you, because we're sick with guilt and worry and no one wants to tell us anything…Please…Is he okay?"

Combeferre let out a surprised and slightly disdainful chuckle. "Is he okay?", he repeated softly; head shaking in disbelief at the question. "Of course he's not okay. What do you think? Two of his close friends drugged him; used him to have a little laugh of their own. He feels betrayed and mortified. He can't believe you would do that to him. Friendship and loyalty are two of the most important things in Enjolras' life and you've disgraced both of those virtues. You've broken his trust. And for what exactly? To _loosen him up_, as you both so delicately put it yesterday?"

Bahorel swallowed and cast his eyes down. "We already said we were sorry a million times 'Ferre…There's not much more we can say. We understand you're angry and you have every right to be, but believe us when there is nothing that you can say or do to us that's going to make us feel worse about this whole thing than we already feel. We've already hit our lowest point and we kinda figured that Enjolras would feel that way, that's why we want to speak to him ourselves...But I meant, is he okay physically?"

Combeferre silently counted to ten and let out a deep sigh. "They had to perform a gastric suction", he stated coldly, "He's suffering from short term memory loss and I hope for his sake those memories will stay lost forever. He's got a concussion and therefore he will be walking around with a headache and feeling sick for at least the next four or five days. But all in all, he should make a full _physical_ recovery. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Bahorel kept silent and hopefully looked at Grantaire for support. But his cynical friend seemed to be just as much at a loss for words as he was himself. And so Combeferre continued talking. Every word he said felt like daggers piercing Bahorel's and Grantaire's heart, digging the already present guilt further inside.

"You know that he lied for you?", Combeferre said through gritted teeth. "God knows why, but he didn't want to rat either of you out to the police, so he told the officer that this all happened on his own accord. He refused to press charges against you and now he got himself one hell of a fine and they're going to send a letter to his father. _To his damn father, Grantaire_. He hasn't spoken to that man in four years for a reason you of all people should be aware of; do have you any idea how humiliating this is for him?"

"We're going to pay that fine, Combeferre…He…Enjolras should never have lied for us, I really can't believe he did that…", Grantaire whispered quietly. He had completely forgotten about the situation with Enjolras' father. He was one of the few Amis who knew about it, because he and his father had one thing in common. One thing very much hated by Enjolras. And Grantaire couldn't believe he had thrown this back in his friend's face. It was unforgivable really and he should count himself lucky if Enjolras ever deemed him worthy enough to look at again.

"Damn right you're going to pay and did I not just told you that to Enjolras friendship and loyalty are of high priority? Had he sued both of you, you'd probably be paying close to 2500 euro's. He apparently still sees the two of you as friends, so that should give you some hope at least." Combeferre had had enough of the conversation. This wasn't going anywhere. He was still furious and his friends were right. They could apologize all they want, it wasn't going to sooth Combeferre's rage. "I'm not the one you need to be talking to", he said quietly, forcing himself to calm down some more. "You are right, you can keep saying you're sorry, but it isn't going to fix anything for me. You need to make things right. With Enjolras. Not with me. And as long as you can't build up that trust; as long as Enjolras doesn't want to see you…I really don't have anything to say to you either."

Bahorel and Grantaire just blinked up at him.

"I'd rather have you leave, if you don't mind", Combeferre continued. "You're not getting to see Enjolras right now; you can send him a text or whatever and you can come back on his terms."

"But we have texted him like a million times already, 'Ferre!", Bahorel said desperately, "And he hasn't responded a single time…Not to either one of us."

"He just got out of the hospital, Bahorel", Combeferre snapped angrily, "Do you think that texting you back is the first thing on his mind? He hasn't even seen his phone yet! Please…just, please leave now, because I really don't want to hit you again." He closed his eyes and dragged a tired hand through his hair. "Please, just leave now", he whispered.

And they did. They left quietly and guiltily and even though Bahorel had said they couldn't, they left feeling more miserable than they had when they arrived. Just before they closed the door behind them, Grantaire turned around to face Combeferre a final time. "We really are sorry, 'Ferre…More than you'll ever know…" He nodded to himself. "Please, tell Enjolras we came by?"

Combeferre bit the inside of his cheek and looked at Grantaire for a long time. Then he nodded and let out another small sigh. "I know…and I will", he mumbled quietly, "But I am not cleaning your mess. Not this time. If he doesn't want to see you, then don't expect me to swoop in and fix things." He didn't wait for another response, but turned around and gave the door a little push so that it would fall shut behind him.

* * *

After Grantaire and Bahorel left his apartment, Combeferre felt very drained. He collapsed on the couch in the living room – with a pack of ice now wrapped around his own hand – , turned the TV on and mindlessly zapped through the channels. He hated this. He hated the stupidity of his two friends and the chaos they had created. He hated to be witness of the pure desperation and desolation in his friends eyes. And he hated to feel guilty because of it. He was on the verge of falling asleep when he heard a small noise behind him and he turned around to see his young friend standing in the doorway of his bedroom; looking closer to twelve years old instead of his seventeen years.

Enjolras was pale and his hair was a complete mess. He was shivering a little and he had folded his arms around his body, so that he looked even smaller than he actually was. From his position on the couch, Combeferre could clearly see how Enjolras was fighting very hard to keep his face in check; but his bottom lip was trembling and his eyes were filled with tears.

"I remember…", he whispered brokenly; his voice thick with emotion. And as soon as the words left his mouth, his face completely crumpled and the tears rolled down his cheeks. The poor blond walked over to the couch on buckling knees and practically collapsed against Combeferre. He buried his head in his friend's shoulder and started to sob.

Combeferre wrapped his arms around the tiny frame that was his best friend and closed his eyes in silent disappointment. He had so hoped that Enjolras could be spared from this; the poor boy was already feeling embarrassed enough as it was. He let out a small sigh and tried to calm his friend down. He gently carded a hand through his hair, placed a light kiss on the top of his head and whispered soothing words in his ear.

After a little while, Enjolras stopped crying and just leaned against Combeferre's chest in silent search for comfort and safety. "I'm sorry", he said quietly, "I don't know why I'm getting so emotional all the time…I mean, I…"

Combeferre shook his head and tightened his hold a little. "Don't apologize. It's just the concussion; it messes with your emotions. It's nothing to feel bad about...And neither is what happened last night..."

Enjolras breath hitched again. "It is…! It is horrible! How can I ever show my face there again; everyone is going to laugh at me. I have no credibility left whatsoever. Everyone is going to make fun of me. I spoke about _tomatoes_, Combeferre…can you believe that? About tomatoes…"

And even though the events of last night, really weren't funny, Combeferre felt a small smile tug at his lips, because Enjolras sounded a little like a pouting child instead of the independent adult he tried so hard to be. "No one is going to make fun of you, Enjolras. I promise you. Everyone knows exactly what happened and why and there is absolutely nothing funny about it. No one is going to laugh at you or think any less of you. I swear, mon petit Ami. No one. And if they do, then they will be getting hell for it, because I will not accept it and neither will any of the other Amis."

He spoke with so much conviction, that Enjolras did not talk back, but instead just slumped down further into Combeferre's embrace; sniffling quietly. "Now, I wasn't present for the tomato speech you gave, but from what I've heard, it was actually quite inspiring. And I'm not saying this to make fun of you, because I would never do that, but Jehan told me there were actually some people who turned to drinking Bloody Mary's because of it. Now that is pretty impressive in my opinion…"  
Combeferre felt his heart lift a little when he heard Enjolras chuckle weakly; the sound vibrating against his chest.

"Don't you think for a second this is going to change anyone's opinion about you, Enjolras", Combeferre continued kindly, "And if it is, they'll only think better of you. I promise. So don't you worry about it…"

They were both silent for a few minutes. Enjolras comfortably nuzzled against Combeferre's chest and Combeferre playfully messed Enjolras' hair up some more. Then the younger boy's eyes fell on Combeferre's hand and he carefully reached out to it. "What did you do?", he mumbled more than a little shocked. "Did you hit something?"

Combeferre snorted softly. "Sort of, yes…But it is fine, just a little bruised." He didn't really want to say more about the matter. Not right now. Enjolras narrowed his eyes a little and raised an eyebrow, but he knew better than to press for an answer, although he did already have quite an idea of what had happened.

"So…Grantaire and Bahorel left me like a hundred messages", he mumbled instead, scrolling his phone and showing the screen to his friend, "I don't really know what to say to them. I don't want to talk to them and I don't want to see them. Not yet…"

Combeferre nodded and squeezed Enjolras' shoulder. "Then you tell them exactly that. You don't owe them anything Enjolras. They betrayed your trust and it is completely understandable that you don't want to see them right now. It is your decision and yours alone."

Enjolras hummed in response, sent out a text to Jehan, Courfeyrac, Marius and Feuilly and placed his phone on the small table. He didn't sent anything to Bahorel or Grantaire. He didn't even know what to say to them right now and he didn't want to think about it either. His head hurt too much already.

"Do you feel like watching a movie or something?" Combeferre knew Enjolras was still pretty shaken up and he could tell his younger friend longed for some comfort and friendship. And just as he expected, Enjolras pressed up further against him and nodded slowly. He wasn't due for another round of painkillers yet, but Combeferre knew of other ways to take his friend's pain away. "Alright", he smiled, "Just lay back for a minute. I'll go get us something to drink."

Enjolras did as he was told and tried to make himself comfortable on the couch, but that proved much more difficult now that the warmth of Combeferre was missing. Luckily, he was back soon enough with two cups of honey flavoured tea, a pillow, a blanket and Enjolras' favourite red hoodie. He placed the pillow on his lap and Enjolras immediately sank down to rest his head. Combeferre smiled as he selected a movie he was sure Enjolras would like and lightly rested his hand on Enjolras' shoulder.

And for now, everything felt fine. For now, Enjolras could forget about his worries; could forget about the feelings of betrayal; could forget about his embarrassment. For now, he was content and happy.

TBC?

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_(Okay, soo…I'm not going to make any more promises about chapters, because I don't seem to keep myself to them. I could end the story like this and let you fill in the rest for me. But I could also continue if you want me to. Please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter and if you want to see more? Thanks!)_


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